


Diary of a Swashbuckler

by ProudtobeanXNerd



Category: X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Dangerous Things!, Kurt Whump, Romance, more tags to come
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-03-09 03:51:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13473117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProudtobeanXNerd/pseuds/ProudtobeanXNerd
Summary: Blackbird to hot air balloon. X-Mansion to prison cells. Hero to captive. All in a day's work for our Incredible Nightcrawler. Written from Kurt Wagner's eyes as he traverses the highs and lows of what may be his greatest, and perhaps final, adventure.





	1. November 11th

 

Kurt was sitting in the comfortable window seat of his room, snuggled deeply in the large pillows. The sky outside was dark but clear enough that he could see the millions of stars for miles in either direction. His vision was very keen, even in the dark, and he was sitting with the lights out enjoying the view. He held in his hands a dark brown leather journal given to him by his dear friend, Kitty Pryde, a few hours ago at his 22nd birthday party. It was about six inches wide and several inches thick with beautiful gold stitching that spelled out his name and the date on its front cover.

 

She had made him promise the he would write in it, if not every day, at least often. The only problem was that he’d never really had one before, and while he had always been eloquent in the spoken word, writing wasn’t his strong point.

 

And that is why he was staring blankly at the thick book, spinning the ballpoint pen around with his odd fingers.  

 

_Let’s see… What to write…_

 

Doesn’t one usually start with a date?

 

 

_ November 11th _

 

_Well… my birthday party was as it always is when I am surrounded by my dear friends, slightly crazy, but a wonderful time none the less. I only wish the Professor had not called me to the party by such an urgent sounding mental message! I felt silly bursting through the doors still tugging at my uniform in preparation for some threat. But we all had a good laugh._

_Then Bobby went and poured a whole punch bowl over Hank’s head, freezing it as he did so. The ensuing chase was hilarious, and it was nice to laugh at someone other than myself. I think that is why he did it in the first place._

The pen paused above the paper as the writer looked off into space, a grin showing off his white fangs at the memory. A few moments later he continued:

_I think I will enjoy Logan’s gift of the pair of Katangas very much. I might go as far as to say they are my favorite. Not that I would tell that to any of the others, of course. Storm’s book on famous sword fighters was wonderful and I can’t wait to read the one on ships that Jean and Scott gave me._

He was writing quickly now, surprised at both how fast he was going and how easily he had fallen into the effort.

_Kitty thinks they got married when they finally realized how many people now make up the team. And how, as a couple, they only have to give one gift between them. I think it is a funny thought, but anyone who sees way they look at each other would know from the start that that was nowhere near their thinking. I surprised myself by feeling a little jealous. I shouldn’t… but sometimes I wish I had someone that I could look at, and who would look back at me, in a way that spoke of more than simple lust._

_But enough of that! I have enjoyed myself more this night than I have for a long time. For once there was no one to worry about saving, no buildings burning, no villains trying to kill me or those I love. All in all, it was a fantastic night; though the calmness was unusual. I kept expecting the other shoe to drop. But it didn’t, and I am grateful that so many of my friends were there. The Professor was able to make it after all; Jean and Scott back from their honeymoon, Ororo, Kitty (who drove all the way from college just for the evening even though she knew she would have to drive home in the dark), Piotr, Hank, Bobby, Logan, Jubilee, and so many others here to celebrate with me. Sometimes I feel alone in this world, with all the hate and bigotry surrounding me day after day… And yet, God always seems to find a way to remind me that, not only am I_ not _alone, but there are_ many _people around me who care._

_I am grateful more than I can express with pen and paper, or words in either of the languages I know._

_I only hope that I can find a use for Bobby’s very odd gift. I don’t know what in the world he expects me to do with a gold plated, ivory  handled…_

He jumped at the sound of the alarm going off overhead, screeching through the mansion from the hidden speakers on every floor.

 

Knowing what it meant, he jumped up. Glad he was still clad in his uniform, he ran for the door.

 

“Ach. Here must be the famous ‘other shoe’. Oh well, it seems that duty calls.” He thought to himself with a mental sigh.

 

Once again, in the span of a second, Kurt Wagner had become The Incredible Nightcrawler. With that transformation he took on all the burdens that title demanded; unaware that he was in for one of the strangest, and most life-changing, adventures of his young life.

 

 

  **The book closes…**


	2. November 12th

_ November 12th _

_  Early morning hours before sunrise _

_All the others are quiet at the moment. The sound of the jet as we fly through the night sky is the only noise around me. In any other instance it would seem peaceful, but not when we don’t know what is at the end of this flight for us, other than the Professor’s warning of Brotherhood signatures in a heavily populated area. We must make sure they are not hurting anyone._

_But back to what happened after the party…_

_The alarm that alerted us to trouble brought the whole team running to the War Room, myself included. I only realized that I hadn’t put this journal down until I was already there. So I simply tucked it away in my breast pocket until later. Later has turned out to be an early morning flight to a place called_ **Nasirabad** , in **India** _. A strange name… someplace I’ve never been before. That statement is getting harder and harder to make. As an X-Man I have seen more people, places, and amazing things in the last three years then in my entire life before as a circus performer. I always thought that the ‘Big Top’ was the farthest ranging profession available._

_At the moment there is not much to do, and I’ve never liked sitting still and doing nothing when danger is near. So I find myself feeling very glad that I brought this little book along. It will at least distract me from my boredom._

_Logan is sitting in the seat next to me. And I find myself in awe, and not for the first time, of his ability to fall asleep anywhere, at any time, no matter the circumstances. I only wish I could do the same. It seems like a very useful talent to say the least._

_Cyclops calls out… we only have five more minutes until we reach the coordinates given to us by Cerebro. It’s almost time… Logan is now awake beside me, trying to read over my shoulder. But I’ve started a new page, and so there is nothing ‘interesting’ for him to see._

A small line scribbles over the pages as Logan nudges Kurt’s writing arm, pretending it was an accident when the other man glares at him. But his twisted smirk gives it away. Kurt rolls his eyes, but he too has a small grin on his face as he goes back to writing.

_He is talking to Kitty about something now, so I can write in peace. Sometimes he annoys me, or makes me angry. But going into an unknown situation, with an unknown outcome, I can think of no one else I would rather have fighting by my side._

_Looking at the others, I feel much less fear of the unknown. Scott and Jean in the front, Logan, Kitty and Piotr in the back, I know there is danger, but I am ready to face it with them around me._

_I must stop now. Cyclops just said we are above the target. I can see nothing from the windows, but that means little. If I am not too tired, and God willing this all goes well, I think I will write a little more on the return trip home._

** The book closes… **

 


	3. November 19th

 

_November 19 th_ _(At least I believe that is the date.)_

_I think it is sometime before midnight, though with the strangeness of this place I cannot be sure; looking up a two moons every night, and three on occasion, is disconcerting to say the least. So much has happened in the past **seven days** that I do not know where to begin. I have a while before the guard passes me again, so I must be careful. If they catch me with this book I am certain they will take it from me; just as they did my crucifix and pocket knife. I mourn the loss of the first much more than the latter, even if it was a birthday present from Piotr. I feel almost naked without it, and I long for the material comfort it lends me. I am lucky to still have this little book, though with the state my uniform is in, I’m surprised I’ve been able to hide it at all. Otherwise they would have found it several times over. I almost lost it once, if it wasn’t for Erinth… But no, I better start at the beginning. _

_The mission seemed simple enough at the time. We easily defeated the three Brotherhood members we found sneaking around an abandoned warehouse. Blob, Toad, and Avalanche have never proved_ that _great a challenge. At least not against a team as large as the one I am… was… a part of. And without Blob or Avalanche to hide behind, Toad was even easier to question. Logan just had to_ look _at him and he fell apart into the sniveling coward he really is._

_He told us that Magneto had sent them to find the cause behind several odd energy spikes in this area. Apparently, the Master of Magnetism thought they may come from a budding mutant of substantial power. But it wasn’t so. After we had handed the Bumbling Trio, as Kitty called them, over to the authorities, Cyclops contacted Professor X and asked if he sensed any mutants. He said he did not, but that there was a signal of some sort showing up on the sensors. Cyclops decided we should check out the building and see what we could find._

_At first there was nothing of interest, unless one counts trash, old and broken furniture, and the largest spider species count on the planet; which I of course do not._

_I don’t know how long we looked around that building. When I’d last looked out a window I could see the first signs of dawn appearing along the horizon. Logan and I were poking around the basement when Cyclops called and said to come back up, that this was pointless. I wish now with all my heart I had simply followed Logan up the stairs. But there was one last door we hadn’t looked in because it said ‘Supply Closet’. I only opened the door as a joke to Logan._

_“Oh look! This is where they must keep the good stuff! There has to be SOMETHING interesting in this building.” I said. He laughed, already halfway up the steps. “I’ll bet” was his only reply._

_I swung the door open, and glanced in. I almost shut it, but there, in the middle of the floor of the closet was something that caught my eye._

_It looked harmless enough, a dark brown box with glowing yellow lights around the top. I didn’t have time for a close inspection though. As I called out for Logan to come and see, the lights changed from glowing yellow to flashing blue, spinning around the top of the box like a merry go’ round. The ensuing flash of silver light was so bright that it felt as if my eyes were being burned out._

_I don’t really remember anything else after that. I think there was a loud noise, as if a train whistle had gone off next to my ear. But everything was so confusing I cannot be sure. I felt as if I was spinning in circles while being pulled in a thousand different directions at once._

_And then there was nothing. No sounds, no sights or smells, no thoughts even; just nothingness. It’s the only way I know how to describe it._

_When I woke up my head felt like it was full of steel wool. I felt like I’d gone through a dozen consecutive matches with an angry Juggernaut on one side and a feral Wolverine on the other. So that’s all the description needed, I suppose._

_There was this strange smell all around me, and it took several moments to realize that it came from the soiled blanket I was laying on. It, and myself, smelled strongly of some sort of alcohol. I managed to lift my head a little ways, my foggy mind expecting to see a worried Logan or Hank hovering over me. No such blessing._

_I was lying on a pallet on the floor of a room that reminded me very much of a bad western movie’s jail. A further glance only encouraged that picture as I took in the dirty stone walls, single tiny window high above my head, and the bars that made up the only door. There was a bucket set near the door, which I suppose was meant for any… ‘business’ the occupants of this room might have and a flimsy looking wooden chair near the back wall._

_It look some time, and a great amount of effort, but I managed to sit up, leaning heavily against a damp wall for support. When my head stopped spinning I took stock of my injuries. There didn’t seem to be anything broken, only bruised, and I had one long cut across my chest. Thankfully it was very shallow, and I didn’t think it would cause me anything but a slight discomfort. The main ache was that of the resounding pain in my head and throbbing behind my eyes. But that too was receding as long as I didn’t move to suddenly._

_Where are the others? That was, and still is, the thought ever present in my mind. I know that if there is a way to reverse whatever that ‘box’ did to me, they will find it. I only hope that none of them were hurt or caught by whatever ensnared me._

_I don’t know how long I sat there wondering and worrying, but after a while I heard voices from the front of the building. I slowly managed to force myself to stand, and though I staggered a bit at first, I soon found my footing and walked to the door._

_I couldn’t see anyone as I peered outward. But I knew for sure I was hearing two men talking._

_I focused past the bars, expecting to find myself on the other side amidst a cloud of smoke._

_Nothing_

_I tried again._

_Still nothing_

_Again and again I focused; again and again nothing happened._

_“I must just be too tired.” I reasoned with myself. But even then I knew that wasn’t the case. Even when I’m too tired to teleport, I can **feel** the ability. Like, when an arm or leg is very tired, you know that you could use it if you REALLY tried. That is the same with me. And that feeling was, and still is, completely gone. Like a part of me is muffled and closed off that shouldn’t be. _

_I forced the panic down, as I have been trained to do._

_“Alright,” I said silently to myself, “if I can’t teleport, I’ll just have to find another way out.” And I turned my attention back to the voices._

_I opened my mouth to call, but all that came out was a most embarrassing squeak. I am glad now there was no one to hear it. I cleared my throat for a few moments and tried again._

_This time the result was much more preferable._

_“Hello? Is someone there? Please, let me out of this place!”_

_The talking stopped, as if they were listening, then they went back to their conversation. I listened too, their voices were loud, but I couldn’t understand the words. I understood then that they spoke in another language. One I had never heard before, but that sounded a little like French._

_“Whoever is there let me out!” I shouted, rattling the bars for emphasis. I hate being ignored, and as tired and worn as I was my mood was less than civil._

_This time the conversation didn’t even lag. They continued on as if I wasn’t there. I shook the bars again, trying to make as much noise as possible._

_Nothing happened for several minutes then there was the sound of a door closing, and footsteps approaching my cell._

_I stepped back from the bars, readying myself for an attack of any kind._

_A man stepped into view from around the corner. He was short, quite round, with ruddy skin and bright, intelligent brown eyes. He wore a pair of dark trousers, and a buckskin shirt with a checkered pattern on the chest like a built in vest. From both hips hung a pistol of some kind, and his shirt sported a polished circle; in place of the star one would expect in a movie._

_The more I saw of this place, the more I was sure I had been transported into a John Wayne film._

_The sheriff, as I started to think of him, pointed a finger at me. He said a series of sharp sounding words in that strange language. I came closer to the bars, grasping them with both hands. I listened hard to what he was saying, and some things sounded familiar, but I could not grasp it as a whole._

_He paused for a moment, looking at me, waiting for a response._

_“I don’t understand you!” I said, waving one hand as I tried to indicate my ignorance. “I don’t suppose you understand English?”_

_It was an off handed comment. I didn’t expect him to comprehend. But to my surprise, he did._

_“English?” He said, “Well I don’t know what that is, but I understand Dail well enough lad. Surprised one o’ you folk does though. That’s usually the language of the Hinderfolk.” The dialect he spoke was harsh and heavy, hard to understand; but I could make it out._

_“What have I done to be incarcerated like this?” My first questions should have been ‘where was I?’ but my mind was still foggy, and that was the first thing that came to me._

_He glared at me, again shaking the aforementioned finger._

_“Don’t you start that wit me lad… You know as well as I do what ya done.” He looked at me a moment, then shook his head. “Ha, maybe ya don’t then. A feller as drunk as you were might not. By the Creator… I should take a stick to ya boy! I understand you Wanderers like a bit a’ ale after a show, but stumbling into the Gera’s private party and falling into his wine tub isn’t the way to go!”_

_He shook his head in annoyance._

_“And it means that poor, honest, sober folks like me have to be woken up in the middle of the night by a hollering bunch of till’s screaming for ‘justice’. You’re lucky I got there when I did, Gera Yal wanted to have you beaten in front of the town. Should be thanking me you should…”_

_He glared at me again, annoyance clear in his eyes._

_I was so very confused. Not only by the oddities in his speech, but by the charge that was being put against me. I had no memory of such an occurrence, but I do not know what could have transpired before I woke up._

_“What do you plan on doing to me then?” My voice was smaller than I meant for it to be. But I was feeling weaker by the moment as another wave of exhaustion hit._

_Swaying back and forth as I was, I must have made a pitiful sight. The sheriff’s eyes softened and his voice took on a gentler tone._

_“Now then boy… Ya don’t need to worry about me hurtin’ ya, or anything of the sort.” He actually smiled a little. “You’ll stay in here until the day after tomorrow morning, and then I’ll let ya go. Your traveling group hasn’t left yet, probably waitin’ on you. So ya needn’t worry about not catchen’ up to them.” He paused for a moment. “I know how a lotta towns is toward your kind o’ folk. But I can promise ya on my word of honor as Halren Tere, Trailiff of this village that no harm will come to you.”_

_He nodded for emphasis before putting on a stern look again._

_“Sides, a few days in a cell might teach ya some good. Drunkenness ain’t a proper thing at any point. And public drunkenness is even worse. Now then, you sit yerself down and stop all this racket, ya hear me?”_

_I paused for a moment, at a crossroad. I could either deny what he had said I’d done, and try to explain what had happened to me, or I could wait for him to let me go, and try to find answers on my own._

_The sheriff, or Herr Halren, seemed a good sort. But, in this setting and place, was he the type of man who would believe me when I said a box had sent me to another place and time?_

_I thought not, and so I decided to go with the latter of the two roads._

_“Yes sir.” I said with a slightly sheepish nod; and slowly made my way back to the blanket. I leaned against the wall and slid down to the floor. My body ached and I could feel my limbs starting to tremble. I tugged the smelly wrap around my shoulders and huddled there._

_I looked back through the bars to Herr Halren. He’d watched me, I guess to make sure I would be no more trouble, until I sat down. Then with an approving nod he left my sight and on to whatever business a man of his position might conduct._

_I sat…_

There Kurt paused as he heard the sound of feet on the gravel like ground around him. He quickly shut and stuffed the journal into the remains of his tattered uniform, curling into a tight ball on the ground. He closed his eyes tightly, feigning sleep as best he could. The guard stood above him a moment, as he prayed desperately that the man would leave him alone. Had they not had their fun already? The guard nudged him with a booted foot, and he prepared himself for another assault.

But God was looking out for him, and the man passed by without another action.

Kurt shivered mightily, making the chains around his feet and hands rattle from the tense movement.

He fingered the book in his pocket lightly, debating whether or not to take it out and write a little more since he knew that he’d be unable to sleep. The scent of unwashed, sickly bodies all around him was oppressive, to say the very least, and the sharp prickling of the gravel underneath him was too painful to ignore.

But a single close call was enough for one night. This little book, a sweet gift from a dear friend was all he had left of his life; the last, at least material, link with home and family. He wouldn’t risk losing it to these…monsters that held him captive.

Not after the trouble Erinth had gone through to bring it back to him. He owed the man’s memory enough to be careful.

So with a last, shuddering sigh, he pulled his flexible knees close, curling his hands between them and his chest, and wrapped his tail around himself in an effort to keep warm.

The guards had said they were close to the ‘trips’; another phrase in a long list that he was unsure of the meaning. The other prisoners did not seem to understand him for the most part, plus any and all attempts at conversation were normally cut short by the guards.

He shifted again on the ground, seeking comfort and finding none. He found himself wishing once again for Logan’s uncanny ability to sleep anywhere in any condition.

He fought back those thoughts. They made his eyes sting and he dared not show any weakness in front of these men; guards or prisoners alike.

Who knew what tomorrow would bring? He had no idea and only his faith in God to comfort him against the unknown.

And so Kurt began to pray silently, his eyes open, watching and waiting for the dawn.

 

 

** The book closes… **


	4. November 20th

Dawn saw the awakening of the slave camp. The five long rows of captives, each chained to the other by their hands and feet, began to stir as the guards started talking, grumbling, and making loud noises. Kurt's eyes opened blearily, and he looked around, unsure of his surroundings for a moment. Then the events that led up to this day crashed back down on him, and with a sigh he stretched out on the ground, trying to work a painful kink out of his back. He'd only just fallen asleep a few moments before, and all he wanted at that moment was to go back to that dark place, where pain and fear had no hold.

But already the guards were pulling at the chains, kicking those that were not getting up fast enough and others just for the fun of it. So with another deep sigh he forced himself up to his knees, then his feet as his row quickly stood.

The quiet still bothered him. He'd been trying to talk to them for the past week. But the language barrier was still too profound. Little by little he was picking up on words and phrases, and while many were very similar to what he knew, it was slow going. The guards didn't like their prisoners conversing, and what few moments they had that were private were normally used for sleep or rest.

His stomach let out a loud rumble, but he knew there would be no meal for some time. Every morning since he'd been put in the line it had been the same. They awoke at dawn, they were herded into five rows and they marched. The guards ate before they moved out, and the smells of whatever they were cooking always drove him nearly to distraction.

Today though, the guards didn't stop to eat, opting to grab a bite of something as they marched. There was a sense of expectancy among them, and Kurt wondered if it had something to do with the 'trips' Ullalun mentioned yesterday. All the guards cheered when he'd said it.

They were forced to march for hours, and it wasn't until the suns were high in the sky, and the tenth slave in the past half hour had stumbled and slowed a line that a pause was called.

Kurt was grateful for the rest, and when one of the guards walked by with a large brown sack, he was even happier, though it evoked sad memories about the previous distributor. Out of the sack came old, dry, and sometimes moldy, hunks of bread. But with every day that passed, he was more anxious to see that sack. 'True hunger knows no taste' was a phrase he'd learned the real meaning of; it got to a point when the grass they walked on looked appetizing.

The leader, Fallun he'd heard him called, said they'd wait here for an hour or so until the sun was a bit lower. The guards seemed glad for this as much as the slaves were.

As they stopped, Kurt found himself in the shade of a large rock with a few of the other captives. After the food was passed out, and Kurt had swallowed his portion, he looked around for the guards; none seemed to be anywhere nearby. When he was sure they weren't going to see him, he carefully pulled out the little journal, and the pen that slid into its binding.

November 20th Close to noon I think.

Ah, twice in two days I have found time to write. That surprises me. It is a small blessing amidst the pain that surrounds me, but I am grateful none the less.

The ground is no longer that of endless gravel and dirt. We've moved to higher country. Though it is harder to walk up and down hill after hill, it is cooler here, and much more beautiful. The hills are green, and flowers cover many of them. They've stopped us in a patch of soft grass, and it is so very comfortable to sit here in the shade for a moment.

I have learned, or at least heard, the names of all twenty of the guards, and a few of the captives. Some are friendly, helping me when I stumble as we walk and other such niceties. It is small comfort, but it helps lift my spirits.

The man behind me refuses to speak at all, not even a whisper. From the motions Fernan, the man in front of me makes, he may be a mute. I do not know how long I have to write, but I will make the best of the time I have left.

Hum… I never did finish what happened at the jail. I don't even know why I keep writing this, but perhaps, someday, someone who understands this language will find this journal, and read about me…

What am I saying? It is almost like I have given up all hope of getting home.

I shall rewrite that paragraph.

Hum… I never did finish what happened at the jail. WHEN I get home, perhaps someday I will publish this journal. A tale of a daring, dashing hero captured in a faraway land amidst many an adventure. All this needs is a lovely maiden and surely it will be a best seller.

There. I don't know if it convinced me, but I know I mustn't give up.

But when it is found, I cannot leave my readers in suspense! So, back to the jail cell…

I sat there for some time, willing the aches and pains away. Not that it worked mind you, but it was the only thing I could do to while away the time. I must have dozed off at some point, though I don't know how long I slept. I woke up and the light seemed to be coming from a different direction through the window, so I supposed it was nearing evening.

A few moments later, I moved to the wall that had the window and quickly climbed up. At least that aspect of my abilities was not lost. I clung to the bars, bending this way and that, trying to get a glimpse of the town I had unknowingly disturbed. I was both not surprised, and amazed that it looked exactly like a western set. From my perch I could see what resembled a saloon and, a little further up the street, a general store. But that was about it.

It was then I heard the sheriff's voice from behind me,

"Not very flashy is it? Nothing real special about Nerrton Minor, but it has its own kind of charm."

I didn't jump, but I was surprised that I hadn't heard him come in. He wasn't the…smallest of fellows, and he didn't look as if he could move so quietly.

I turned my head and looked at him as he looked up at me, clinging to the bars of the tiny window six feet off the floor. I lowered myself carefully to the ground, still mindful of my soreness, and moved a little closer to the door.

"It does have that in abundance." I said politely; glad to at least know the name of the place I was sequestered in. He chuckled, but before I had to think of something else to say he asked,

"You hungry? Got a bit of stew here, sent over by the wife."

To be totally honest, up until he'd said it, I hadn't been thinking about food. But before he could finish the sentence my stomach let out the most horrendous of growls.

Herr Harlen let out a loud guffaw, a smile making his features much less harsh. He pulled a small table and chair up to the bars and sat across from me. I grabbed the chair from the other side of the cell and, after testing it to see if it would hold me, I sat down carefully in it. It did hold my weight, but only barely, and with much protesting.

Without ceremony Harlen set a pot on the table and after removing the lid, he dished some into two separate bowls. It smelled heavenly, and as soon as he'd handed it to me through the bars I began eating. The flavors were different from what I was used to, the chunks of meat something like a cross between venison, and the alligator Remy once talked me into trying. Sounds frightening I'm sure, but it was actually very good. I can also say, without pause, that it did not taste anything like chicken.

When I'd finished, I praised the meal and asked him to congratulate his wife on her cooking prowess. He seemed pleased with the comments and offered me seconds, which I was glad to accept. I ate the next bowl slower as Harlen and I talked a bit.

I asked him a few questions about Nerrton Minor and managed to learn that it was 'just south of the Auss-Tain Forest, and not all that far from Glens Rose'. Wherever or whatever those were. I also learned that the towns folk were very glad the traveling group Harlen thought I was a part of had stopped here. Apparently, these 'Wanderers', which from the description sounded to me like a cross between a gypsy circus and a traveling rock band, were very popular, but not always trusted, and normally only hold performances in the larger cities. They had stopped here on their way to what I guessed was another large city called Galv on Stone Island, because of Gera Yal's visit.

Herr Harlen didn't seem the least bit nervous or surprised by my appearance, so the group must have had people like me. It sounded like a good place to start looking for answers.

But first I had to get out of here.

At the moment, I thought it best to remain under Harlen's custody though. I had no way of getting out, and since Harlen said the 'Wanderers' hadn't left yet, I was in no hurry. If I waited for them to leave, I could meet with them outside of this town and see if I could secure a job. It wasn't much of a plan, but having it helped keep me from worrying so much. I just needed to take things one step at a time.

I was also told that it was a very good thing that I was traveling with such a large group. Apparently, he'd heard there was a lot of trouble with slavers to the south of here. He must have construed my surprised expression for one of fear. He quickly informed me that I needn't worry, since there wasn't anything like that near Nerrton Minor.

If only that had been true…

Harlen was the type of man that if you started him talking about one subject he would go on for a long while about that and many other subjects that might have nothing to do with the first. Like the one time I asked Jubilee why she always wore black and yellow nail polish and we ended up, over an hour and a half later, discussing medieval era swords and weaponry. I have never understood that, but it is one of the events that cemented our friendship. I may not be as 'totally cool as Wolvie', but I was definitely a friend.

I wished that I could stay longer here, and under different circumstances. Even though he was the jailor and I the prisoner, I enjoyed talking to Harlen.

How unfortunate it is that when we parted, he was under the impression that I was this drunken young hooligan that crashed wealthy people's parties just for fun. I wish it wasn't so. I hope that, perhaps someday, I can right the assumption.

But back to the story! It was late when he finally levered himself up and stretched, telling me he had to leave for home. He said he wouldn't be back until morning, so it wouldn't do me any good to shout or bang against the bars, but he was smiling as he said it.

I was very, very tired; even after I had slept all day, my body was screaming and my head was spinning. So as soon as I'd heard the front door shut and lock, I collapsed onto my pallet and was almost instantly asleep.

I woke up some time around noon the next day, which I think was the 14th to the clatter boots and the jingling of keys. I didn't have time to do anything but sit up and rub my eyes before Harlen's harsh voice rang out through the cell.

"Come on lad, up ya go. Can't sleep all day everyday can ya?"

I yawned and forced myself to stand, stretching the kinks out of my spine. It took me a moment to realize that Harlen was in the process of unlocking my cell. I was sure he'd told me that he wasn't going to release me today. Hadn't he said 'the day after tomorrow' yesterday? I must have looked puzzled because he laughed as he swung the door open.

"Oh, I planned on keeping ya here until tomorrow lad, but it turns out your group is leaving now; heard something about them trying to get to the Jumper River while it's still fordable." He motioned me out and I did so without hesitation. It's best not to waste a good chance when it comes.

"Can't have ya stuck here waiting on the next supply train or whatnot. A troublemaker like you'd probably be too much work for an old man like me." His face took on a look of mock severity. "But if I catch ya in my town drinking again, at all mind you, I'm gonna run you out on the spot. You hear me?" I nodded with a smile. "Good", he finished.

He led me out of the jail, and I took a moment or two to look around me. The air was fresh and smelled like pine trees, and I was able to fully appreciate my location for the first time. Nerrton Minor was surrounded by trees on all sides but one. That led out over grassy, rocky plains stretching for miles. Far in the distance I could see mountains with snow covered peaks like cupcakes. Birds sang all around us, and though there were sounds of people too, those weren't overwhelming.

There were around twenty buildings that I could see, all up and down one main road that was pitted and muddy. Some, but not too many, people walked along the outside edges where a wooden sidewalk had been constructed. Some glanced in my direction with curious or even distasteful looks, but none were openly hostile or afraid. All it needed was a few horses and men in cowboy hats to complete it, and I was in America in the early 1800's.

And then I looked up, and I knew I wasn't even on Earth; at any time.

Unless of course there was some point in history where our sky had two suns…

I just stood there, trying to fight down the urge to panic, forcing my face not to show the surprise I felt. This changed things. Part of me had hoped I was still in New York, even if I was back in time; somehow being on Earth made it less terrifying. But I took a deep breath and pushed those feelings aside. Harlen was standing next to me, and he too was taking in deep breaths; though his appeared to be entirely for pleasure.

"Told ya it had its own charm lad. There are few things more wonderful than the smell of the dew-chords in spring, or the sounds of the lyre birds." He looked at me expectantly and I nodded quickly to cover up my worry.

I didn't know what to say to that, I had so much on my mind at the time, so I just nodded with what I hoped was a pleased expression and not the harried one I thought it would be.

He chuckled softly, I must not have been acting as well as I could have, "Oh, I suppose you're a bit too young to understand the true meaning of such things." He said sadly. "Someday, when you get a few years on you, hopefully you'll understand that life isn't worth living if you can't stand still and enjoy it sometimes."

I nodded again, assuring him that was probably so, but I don't think he was particularly convinced.

With a resigned sigh he slapped my back good-naturedly and pointing toward what would be counted as west back home. "That's the direction your group headed out lad. They'll stick to that road for a day's journey at least. If ya hurry, maybe run a bit, you should catch up with them in about half a quarter or so. They were moving pretty slow with all them wagons and such. Never gonna get used to the sight of such bright paint though, all those colors hurt my eyes."

I shook his hand, thanking him for his kindness towards me. Even though he'd been my jailor, he was the first person I'd met since coming here, and it was nice to be treated well. I'd rather be accused of being a drunk and a disturber of the peace than a monster or a demon any day.

He shooed me off, saying all the thanks in the world wouldn't keep me out of his cell if I ever showed myself drunk around here again. And so with a wave I trotted, or as close to a trot as my still aching body could manage, in the direction he'd indicated. His gruff call of good luck echoed over my shoulder.

I wish the sentiment had done me a little good.

Here Kurt paused in his writings as the guards began calling that the rest was over. He quickly stuffed his little book back in his pocket and shuffled to his feet, wincing as his bruised ribs protested, and his aching head spun. He wasn't a doctor, but he'd had some training as a field medic, and he knew that all this walking wasn't good for him in this state. He hoped that wherever they were taking him, good or bad, wouldn't be too far away. He didn't know how much longer he could manage.

As the line he was in began moving, he sighed. He'd just have to keep praying for deliverance, and if not that, strength to continue on.

The book closes…  
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Hope y'all liked it!


	5. November 22nd

_ November 22nd Late evening, by the moon’s light _

__

 

_Now, doesn’t that phrase sound poetic? I thought so, but it may just be that my mind is so exhausted that anything would sound as such._

_We walked until very late last night, and I was so tired then that I fell asleep as soon as we’d stopped. I don’t even remember eating my bread portion. We did the same today, walking for so long I was sure I couldn’t go any further. But oddly, even though I am exhausted, I can’t sleep. I think that wherever we are going we will reach it tomorrow or the next day. The guards seem very anxious to get there soon. That can only mean more ill for us._

_I don’t know if I will have any time to write in the near future. So I will try to bring my story up to date as quickly as I can. I will forego some of the longer details, as some of them I don’t remember, or don’t want to._

_Let’s see… Where was I?_

_I trotted out of town as quickly as I could. Harlen said that this Gera Yal fellow wanted me publicly flogged. And that was something I preferred to avoid if at all possible. As I’d said, the townsfolk weren’t openly hostile towards me because of my looks, but some of them seemed nervous. So I wanted to put a bit of distance between me and the charming Nerrton Minor. Not to mention that I needed to catch up with these ‘Wanderers’ if I was to secure a job and passage to the next town._

_I wasn’t worried about getting a job really. If they were anything like the circus back home, they could use an acrobat. And trapeze artists of my talent are usually hard to come by. Arrogant? Yes perhaps, but true none the less._

_As when Logan says “I’m the best at what I do” there could be no truer statement, and though I wouldn’t claim to be the greatest acrobat ever to live, or even living now, I can compete with the best of them. So I was confident that I could get a job of some kind. And I was looking forward to see what similarities and differences there were between my home circus and this place._

_Alas, I never got the chance to find out._

_I traveled for some time, trotting when I could, walking when I couldn’t. So far as I could see this place was very much like our earth, if you didn’t look up at the twin suns that is. As I went I could almost pretend I was going for a stroll in the woods outside the Mansion._

_The only time I was completely disillusioned to that was when a strange little yellow animal, about a foot high and resembling something like a cross between a fat squirrel and a mutant rhino, ran across my path. I must have stared at the bushes where it disappeared for a full five minutes before I roused myself and continued on. If nothing else, it was a good reminder that I wasn’t home, and shouldn’t let my guard down._

_That little lesson flew out the window a moment or so later when the sound of screaming tore through the air a ways into the trees to my left. It was such a terrified sound, almost too painful to listen too, that I plunged into the trees without a second thought. I was sure if I hesitated, the person in need would be dead before I got there. I wondered if the little rhino-squirrels hunted in packs and had a taste for flesh. “Ah well…” I thought “No time to worry about that until they fly out of the trees and attack me.”_

_As I ran through the underbrush the scream continued with unwavering intensity, and looking back I guess that should have been a dead give-away. If you are in trouble or hurting badly, the sound of your voice varies and changes. Only if you are trying to force a scream to continue does it sound nearly the same the whole length. But at the time I didn’t think of that._

_I burst through the trees and into a small clearing, looking in all directions as I tried to keep my breathing even and prepare for a threat._

_The scream was coming from a figure a few feet away, struggling on the ground as they were being attacked by a pack of around eight wild…dogs? At least they looked like they might have been dogs, resembling greyhounds in body. But their faces looked more feline in nature, and they each sported two tails. They were growling and snarling up a storm._

_I should have known better then; if wild animals had really been attacking, the person wouldn’t still be screaming. Animals with that big an advantage would have killed their prey a lot faster._

_But all I was thinking about was that poor person being mauled to death. So instead of pulling back and assessing the situation, I flung myself into the fray with a shout of my own. There were several satisfying sounds as my feet hit various heads and sides, electing yelps of pain and surprise from my (fenine?) adversaries._

_After a few moments under my assault, they pulled back, snarling and frothing in a very unpleasant and unhappy fashion, as they ran off into the trees._

_I quickly turned to the unlucky person, hoping that the damage wasn’t too great and already calculating how fast I could get her or him back to Nerrton Minor. The pile of cloth remained still as I moved quickly over to it._

_“Are you alright? I promise that I mean you no harm. I’m here to help.” I said as gently as I could as I knelt down and placed a hand on their shoulder._

_The figure lashed out with a wild yell, striking me in the stomach with enough force to knock the wind out of me. I rolled backward and to my side, trying to keep out of the way of any more blows while I fought to regain my breath._

_My thought at the moment was whether anything in my life is ever what it appears to be?_

_The person, a rather scruffy looking chap missing several front teeth and strangely enough, one eye-brow, followed me with surprising quickness, but a severe lack of grace, swinging so wildly that even in my pained state I could easily avoid him._

_I got my wind back in time to doge another attack, only this time from another figure coming up behind me. At that moment it seemed the forest was alive with hostiles as four more men jumped from the trees and proceeded to launch themselves at me._

_I  leaped,_   _ducked, flipped and rolled about, staying a few steps ahead of all of them as I assessed the situation._

_They were all well muscled men, some quite large, and they all knew how to fight. I actually had to really focus to stay out of their reach, something I don’t normally have to struggle too much with the hired thugs back home. But none could match my agility, and I’d like to think I was gaining the upper hand._

_I’d also like to think I looked the part of the dashing hero, leaping from the back of one thug to another._

_I landed on one’s shoulders, giving him a solid punch to the jaw as I grabbed another’s neck with my tail. I pulled that one into his friend as the first collapsed in a heap, which caused him to trip and ram heads with a third that was coming at me from the front. With a graceful leap I hurdled at the forth, connecting solidly with my fists against his stomach. He fell gasping to the ground, but I was already spinning and diving to doge the fists of the fifth assailant. I came up behind the one that had lured me into this trap and letting my momentum land me on my back I kicked the backs of his knees and sent him careening into a most temperamental looking bush._

_My foes laid out I took a moment to rest, but I couldn’t let my guard down as the trees rattled and seven more men appeared in a circle around me. At their feet milled the unpleasant beasts that had been part of the now obvious trap to lure me here._

_The men were filthy, all wearing worn clothing covered in sweat, mud and other substances I wouldn’t care to name. Most either had very short hair, or were bald, I know now it is because of the lice and fleas that plague us constantly as we traverse these wild places._

_One of them said something to another, amazement coloring his voice. He was the only one that still had long hair; it fell in dirty clumps to his shoulders. His skin, what could be seen under the dirt, was pale and painfully sun-burnt._

_The other answered him, and judging by his position at the front of the group, he might have been their leader. (I know now that that is true; they call him Fallun.) He then motioned to me and said something else to his men. By their expressions, some nervous, and some cruelly excited, I knew he was telling them to try and either capture or kill me. As I said, some of them were nervous, as well they should have been. I’d just taken out five of their fellow ruffians. I decided to use that to the best of my advantage._

_I drew myself up to my full six foot height and gave them my most sinister grin (showing a good view of my sharper teeth) and allowed my tail to thrash around behind me as if it had a mind of its own. I don’t like to frighten people, I often try to downplay my mutation as much as possible so that others will take the chance to get to know me before they run away screaming. But I didn’t think these were the type I wanted to share company with, and so I used the tools at hand._

_I didn’t think any of them would understand me… But it was the tone I was hoping would frighten them. Take Logan for example, he can say something in ordinary English to a person who can’t understand anything but their own language, and still send them running away, near to tears a good deal of the time. I don’t think it’s a part of his mutant abilities, but he enjoys it none the less._

_Adapting the voice of Basil Rathbone,_

_I said as chillingly aloof as I could,_

_“You are all **most** welcome to try. I am more than capable of tearing you all limb from limb, a much more unpleasant style than I did your companions here.”_

_That didn’t seem to go over well with some of them, as all but the leader shifted nervously back and forth, muttering to each other._

_I took a few steps backward, trying to make it to the shadows around the bases of the trees. I kept my eyes focused on the leader daring him to come any closer._

_He didn’t at first, but then with a sour grin he lunged forward. I crouched down, preparing for his attack, only to realize it was a decoy as something hard and heavy struck me from behind on the back of my head._

At this moment Kurt paused to gently brush the back of his head and neck. The object, he still didn’t know what, had left a nasty gash from the base of his skull down three inches. It wasn’t very deep, but it was incredibly painful, even almost a week later. He was beginning to worry about it. At first it had just bled a good deal, but after holding a piece torn from his uniform to it for a while, that had stopped. Then it had just ached for a time. Now the painful area around it was getting larger, and the whole of it was hot to the touch. That meant it was infected, which could be very serious, but he had nothing to tend it with.

 

He let out a long sigh, and with another glance about, went back to his writing, determined to finish before dawn.

* * *

_I came to as I was thrown roughly to the ground. I don’t know how long they carried or dragged me, but it must have been at least two hours. The suns were just beginning to set in the west; time here seemed to follow ours very closely as far as ‘hours in a day’ goes._

_I remained still for a moment assessing the situation. I was a little groggy, but I could still see well enough when I opened my eyes slightly and I quickly started to get my bearings. My arms were tied tightly behind my back, and my feet were attached together with a set of chains just long enough so that I could walk. Only my tail was free, but I doubted it could do much since it was pinned underneath me, and any movement to free that part of my anatomy would result in these cretins knowing I was awake._

_As I carefully looked around I could see a large group of men, about twenty-five or so, containing both those I had bested, and those who had bested me. They were standing next to a small fire pit, and behind them, too far away for the warmth of the flames to reach, a larger group of people crouched or sat. I couldn’t make out too many details from my place on the ground, but I could see that they were chained together._

_‘Slavers and slaves’ I thought with a mental sigh, it seemed Harlen was mistaken about them not being anywhere nearby. ‘Why does trouble always seem to catch up to me when I’m least able to deal with it? No matter, I’ll find a way out of this. I always do, it’s on my resume as part of the X-Men.’_

_I noticed one figure near the fire that seemed out of place. He was dressed in tatters and had chains around his feet, but not his hands. He appeared to be stirring something into a large pot hanging over the fire. He was bald, with a finely shaped head and almost delicate features, though not enough so that you’d mistake him for a woman. His hands were callused and worn, but steady as he added something else to the pot. I thought I could just make out the sound of humming coming from him, and every few seconds he would let out a little chuckle. Something about his actions made me think he might be simple._

_‘Someone to cook for them perhaps; someone they wouldn’t have to watch ever minute?’ I wasn’t sure, but I quickly put him out of my mind as I turned my attention back to my captors._

_I decided to wait for them to make the first move since my condition didn’t warrant jumping about. It didn’t take long before their leader motioned towards me._

_I closed my eyes and stayed still as four men came to me. One nudged me roughly with his foot, and I let out a little moan and shifted as if asleep for effect. The second kick was much sharper, digging into my already aching ribs. It was obvious that they were going to keep this up until I awakened, and I wasn’t sure I wanted a whole new set of injuries. I groaned again and opened my eyes, blinking a few times as if I was confused by my surrounding. I was quickly dragged to my knees, the four around me keeping a firm grasp on my shoulders and arms. It seemed as if they were not yet over the lesson I had given them before; a very small consolation for my predicament._

_The leader approached and I met his gaze without faltering. He grinned cruelly as he looked me over, walking in a circle around me. I couldn’t follow him with my eyes, so I simply sat as straight as I could. When he came around to the front he said something to his men and they laughed._

_“Care to share the joke mein Freund?” I said sarcastically. His smile faded and he glared then made a motion to one of the men behind me. A second later someone hit me hard in the back of the neck._

_I’m proud to say I didn’t scream, but the pain was horrendous. My vision went blurry and with a gasp I fell over. I don’t think I actually passed out, but I wasn’t fully awake. The sound of laughter was loud all around me, but somehow distant as well. I was sure I was about to pass out fully when with a splash, freezing water was dumped over me._

_I came to with another gasp and blinked it out of my eyes. I was still so dizzy it was hard to see, but I did make out the leader motioning again to his men._

_I was dragged upward again, only this time the men began to search me._

_I tried to protest, but a few well places hits silenced me. They must have been looking for valuables, and they were quite annoyed that I didn’t have much. They ripped the cross from my neck, muttering something about ‘rills’ (whatever that means I am still unsure) I still feel the imprint of the chain where it cut me, and they tore my clothes in several places as they looked for anything else._

_My pocket knife was next, and that caused them a bit of pause. They liked it quite a bit it seemed, several of them fought for it. I thought perhaps I was safe after that, but one of them felt the lump where this book was. I struggled slightly, but I was already past having the strength for it to matter. The second blow to my head wouldn’t wear off, and I didn’t know how much longer I could remain awake._

_The man who took it opened the pages, turning it over and over, upside down and to the side. If I hadn’t hurt so much, I might have laughed at his confusion._

_With a shrug he threw the journal to the ground, and I winced, sure it would come loose from its bindings; but it is a sturdy little book, and was undamaged by the rough treatment._

_They moved off to look over the pocket knife again, and the men holding me released me to join them.  I inched forward, sure that if **they** didn’t want my little book, they would let me keep it. My fingers had just touched the edge when a heavy boot stepped down on hand and journal alike. _

_It took a lot of control not to cry out, even as he stepped down harder on my fingers. I looked up._

_The others call him Ullalun, I know that now. While he isn’t the leader of this bunch, he does whatever he wants and not even Fallun will reprimand him._

_He was the tallest in this group, I think he could have been about 6’5”; nothing like Piotr in his metal form, but approaching him in his normal state. He’s built like an ox on two legs, all muscle and brawn. Shaggy brown hair falls low over his forehead, but falls short of covering his menacing black eyes. Pig eyes would be a good way to describe them, small and set close together._

_Perhaps not pig eyes. I wouldn’t want to insult an innocent farm animal._

_You know, I almost winced at writing that. As if he will know and come to punish me despite his inability to read just like the others. I wouldn’t be surprised though, if he did find out, he has a way of knowing things that is a bit uncanny. And he’s always there to doll out punishment for someone moving to slow, or pausing for a moment, even if he was on the other side of the line and couldn’t possibly have seen. Part of me wonders if he is a telepath of some kind. But if that were so, surely he would be down upon me now?_

_Anyway, I tried to pull my fingers away, but he kept on, crushing them. I held out for as long as I could without crying out, I even kept eye contact with him. But as I looked up at him I realized that he would have no problem with me losing my fingers in the least. He seemed to be enjoying it a great deal._

_The pain soon became too much. I looked away from him and down submissively. I’m glad no one I knew was there to see me, they would have been ashamed. I know I was. Still he didn’t stop. I wasn’t until I finally couldn’t hold back any longer and cried out. I didn’t scream, but it was an audible whimper, and that seemed to please him. After one last agonizing press against my hand, he lifted his foot. I yanked my hand back and cradled it to my chest, careful not to make eye contact with him, though I wanted more than anything at that moment to fling myself at him and wipe away the smug look I knew had to be there._

_He bent over and picked up my little book. Part of me wondered if now that he’d made his show of dominance, he would let me have it. They had no use for it._

_But it wasn’t to be. With a cruel grin he waved it in front of my face and then without a backward glance tossed it into the fire pit. I wanted to yell, I wanted to hit him; I wanted to throw myself after it.  It wasn’t that it was worth dying for. But it was mine, and they were taking everything else away. I was in pain, and I was_ **very** _angry_

_They would have killed me if I had moved; the whole group was watching this show with varying degrees of enjoyment. So I took a deep breath, and once again looked towards the ground even as I trembled with rage._

_He uttered a sharp command of some kind, and I was dragged away. They chained me between two men, both so thin I could see their ribs through holes in their shirts. They wouldn’t make eye contact with me, an action I didn’t blame them for. I glanced around seeing many different people. All men, something I came to be very glad about. A woman would have suffered greatly at the slavers’ hands, and I probably would’ve been killed trying to help. Most of the men had dark, brownish skin, though there were several blacks and at least four in very pale tones. The most surprising to me was a man with greenish purple skin. The men around him didn’t seem nervous of his appearance… neither did they of mine though. This is surprising to say in the least for someone who can’t go anywhere without stares; even if they are not hostile ones.  
_

_Pain rocketed through my head and I knew I couldn’t stay awake. I slowly lowered myself to the ground, even as my vision blurred. I didn’t know how, but some way I would get out of this, and perhaps I could find a way to free all these men with me._

_But first, I would have to wait until my injuries healed. First I would have to wait and pray for the strength I needed._

_Those were my last conscious thoughts before I passed out._

_I must have slept all through that first night, because when I awoke it was to a slight paling in the east. A guard was walking along the line, yelling and snarling at us to get moving. I didn’t need to understand the language to recognize the meaning._

_I shuffled to my feet, still trying to get my bearings. It seemed as if I was doing a lot of that lately. Falling asleep and then waking up in a daze. The pain in my head hurt, but was bearable. I felt my stomach rumble, but as I said before, they don’t feed us until later in the morning. I didn’t know that at the time though._

_That first day had to have been one of the worst. I stumbled onward, tripping over every rock and twig in front of me. Some because I was dizzy, some just to annoy my guards. To test them I suppose. See where their strengths and weaknesses lie. I learned quickly that they are a short tempered lot. After I’d fallen down for the fifth time, one of them came to walk behind me carrying a whip of some sort. Needless to say I didn’t fall down on purpose again. Accidentally yes, and even then he lashed out at me. The pain was bad, but not enough to impede my progress; the perfect slave masters’ weapon._

Here Kurt paused for a moment, indecisive. Something plagued him, and he knew it would continue to do so until he got it out into the open. Even if it was only the pages of this little book that he told. 

_There is something else I should write about. Something I have been putting off because it pains me to think about it. But he deserves better than that. I know this even if I only knew him for a few days. I think I mentioned the name Erinth once before. I didn’t even know that was his name until after he died. Yet I met him the morning of the second day of my capture._

_I had been trying to talk to my fellow captives since my capture. But as hard as we were walking it was almost impossible to spare breath for chatter, and when there were short rest breaks, the guards would yell or strike out if anyone tried to talk. Makes it hard to plan an escape if you can’t actually ‘plan’ it, you know._

_I was feeling quite discouraged by then. I was tired, filthy, and feeling very isolated. I asked God for a sign that I wasn’t alone, and to my surprise, it came almost right away._

_We had all stopped to eat, and I was paying close attention to the movements of the guards, trying to detect any patterns. Whenever they stopped to feed us, they would release this one prisoner from his chains. He was the same one I had seen by the fire when the guards had first brought me here._

_They gave him a heavy sack, and amid much loud jeering and mocking on their part he was sent along the line. He never seemed to be bothered by it though. His eyes seemed far away, and I’d often see him smiling happily about something only he knew._

_When he first came up to me with the sack he was wearing such a smile. I smiled back encouragingly; glad to see a bit of cheer among all the somberness. He seemed surprised that I had returned the expression. But his smile only grew. He glanced around him at the guards and when he seemed to know they weren’t looking, he turned back to me and placed a finger over his lips, as if telling me to be quite, then winked. I tilted my head to the side, and I almost asked him why he’d done so. But he was already heading off down the line, humming the same mono-toned tune I’d heard before._

_I didn’t know what to think of this encounter, but I was glad to know there was a friendly face out there. A light in the dark_

_For the next two days he was the only such light. The rest of the time was painfully the same._

_We woke at dawn._

_We walked until late morning._

_We were fed a tiny morsel of a meal that would have left a fly complaining of hunger._

_We walked some more._

_We stopped at night._

_We were fed another tiny morsel._

_We tried to sleep._

_And then the day started all over again._

_I wasn’t able to find out his name from him. I asked every time he brought the sack around, I even pointed to myself and said my name, then pointed to him and waited. He only chuckled, a funny little soft chuckle, and put his finger to his lips. As if we shared some deep secret. One that I was not in on_

_I learned what it was on the fourth day. It was raining fiercely, and we were all out in the middle of it. The guards had set up some temporary shelters for themselves, leaving us in the wind and cold. Still, they were ‘kind’ enough to feed us anyway._

_I regret that night to this day. I was feeling worse off than I had been, the seriousness of my situation was settling over me as I realized this wouldn’t be something I could get out of quickly. And the pain in my head had come back with a vengeance._

_Erinth came up to me as usual, though he looked a little pale and tired to me. But he gave the same wink and finger to his lips conspiratorially as always. Only this time, I didn’t return his smile as I had before. I grunted a sullen ‘thank you’ as he handed me my food wrapped in a piece of cloth. He gave me as big a smile as ever though, and patted my shoulder before moving off._

_I unwrapped what should have been a hunk of bread or perhaps some cheese, but to my surprise it felt like leather. I glanced around me to make sure no one was looking, and then grinned as I stuffed my journal into the remains of my chest pocket._

_Erinth must have fished it out of the fire pit when he’d been sitting there that day, and saved it for me until he could give it to me safely. Such a small thing, but I found it skyrocketed my spirits and made things a bit more bearable._

_I felt bad for my grumpy attitude. I wasn’t the only one in this, and it was time I stopped feeling sorry for myself, even if I was in pain. I swore I would thank the man the next day, and be nice to him for every day to come._

_I never got the chance to act on it._

_The next morning there was some sort of commotion in the camp. I couldn’t make out what they were saying completely, but I finally caught on that one of the slaves had died in the night. They unhooked the body and carried him past the line I was chained in. The figure looked to be sleeping he seemed so peaceful._

_It was then that the man in front of me said his name sadly for the first time. Erinth had helped me in the only way his simple mind knew how; even though he too had been suffering. I wish I could have expressed my thanks..._

Kurt stopped writing. A sound to his left told him one of the guards had gotten up and was moving along the lines. Glancing toward the east he realized that the sun was coming up and was surprised he hadn’t noticed it. Surprised, and worried. The wound on his head had seemed to get better, but now it was getting harder and harder to focus, or stay awake for long periods of time. Both things he needed to do to survive. Wherever they were going, they would be there soon. He just had to make it that long…

 

* * *

 

 

_**The book closes…** _


	6. November 24th

_Finally! I'm caught up here with what I have over on FF. New stuff from here on out on both fronts... IF anyone is even reading this still..._

* * *

 

_November 24 th, (very early morning)_

 

_I only have but a moment to spare. Wherever we have been traveling towards, we’ve reached it; though I am still unsure of the reason. Around mid-afternoon we were herded up and then down a tall, rocky hill. I don’t know how many times I slipped as they rushed us down. Needless to say my knees are a unpleasant sight to behold. On the other side there is a large river that winds in and out amid trees on either bank. We have been settled down on the shores of that river. Waiting; though for what I have no idea._

_As far as my story goes, it seems I am totally caught up on past events. After Erinth’s death, things went on the same schedule that they had before. Only as I said, with the added excitement of coming so close to their destination. Now, we are here! But the meaning of that eludes me. Why capture and escort fifty plus prisoners, only to bring them to the mouth of a river?_

_Obviously they are waiting for someone. Perhaps coming by boat? I don’t know… It’s so hard to think. My head is more painful than it has been for some time. I’m having a hard time paying attention and focusing on my surroundings. Also, I think I may be hallucinating. I thought I caught sight of Logan this morning; sitting amid a cluster of other slaves. I almost broke my neck whipping it around to look. But it wasn’t him, only a slave, Jemby I think he’s called, and he bears no resemblance to Logan at all._

_I don’t know what to do about it… If they would allow us to go down to the water I could clean the wound. But I don’t see that happening. I am so very tired…_

The last word came out a scribble on the page as Kurt’s vision blurred. Awareness warred with oblivion as he fought the urge to vomit or pass out. Maybe both.

He had nothing else to write about, but he felt he must in order to stay awake. Something told him this wouldn’t be a good time to let his exhaustion claim him. 

_I must... keep awake; at least for a while longer. The guards are moving along the lines every few minutes, kicking or striking any who look like they may fall asleep. I don’t want another wound to tend to…_

 

He reached up and scrubbed at his eyes fighting back a yawn. He then began to draw a few crude sketches of the trees and landscape around him, stopping now and then to fill in the gaps with names or words.

 

_I may not have Piotr’s talent, but I can do some of the basics. Even now, there is a pair of white and yellow birds coming in low over the water that I think I’ll try to draw._

_Before he could scribble more than a few lines and shapes though…_

_Those birds must be very large. They are coming in slowly from around a bend in the river approaching us, their wings flapping in the wind._

_But something about the way they move is strange…._

_Ach! They aren’t birds at all! But ships! I can see that now as I block the sun from my eyes for a moment. There are at least two of them, what I thought were wings are really sails. Great sails that stretch out to either side, nearly touching each bank. One ship is slightly ahead; otherwise the sails would be catching up in each other._

_So that is what our captors are waiting for! More slavers coming for us on ships. Brilliant really. Any and all rescue parties would be forced to a halt unless they have their own ships nearby, which is probably always unlikely. And if I am brought aboard a ship… how much more impossible will escape be? If I’m lucky they will only be going a short distance up shore, to a town perhaps, one that trades in human cargo. But what if they don’t stop soon? Travel by water can take weeks, or months. I am not so delirious that I will hold for that!_

_Somehow I must keep from being forced aboard that ship; though I can’t even begin to conjure up a plan._

_I will have to leave it completely in my Father’s hands. Only then is there any possibility, for I have little strength of my own._

_Perhaps I could jump overboard?_

_But first I must…_

The ships were close enough now to see clearly the men scrambling about the decks.  The guards called out greetings to them, waving, laughing and exchanging jokes in several different languages. Kurt tucked his journal away, bracing himself for an attempted escape. There was little hope for him, unless he could discover some means of getting free from his chains.

The slaves were forced to stand and shuffled closer to the edge of the river as the ships came to a slow halt. The great, outstretched ‘wings’ folded down and inward like a birds, cutting off access to the wind. Three smaller boats were untied from the large ones and four men in each rowed them toward the shore. Kurt watched as the first two rows of slaves were taken aboard the little boats, noting that their feet chains were removed for the trip and they were disconnected from each other. That would be his best chance he decided; when he was separated from the man in front of him. If he escaped he’d still have the chains around his hands to deal with later, but that was something he thought he could manage. He’d try to jump into the water then swim a distance away before they could send anyone after him. With all the other slaves, they probably wouldn’t have enough people to spare.

 

 _“One thing about being trapped here that I can be grateful for,”_ he thought to himself, _“They don’t have guns they could shoot me with when I start to run.”_

Kurt promised himself that he’d try and come back for the others… Maybe he could follow the boats along the shore, or go and get help then tell someone the direction the ships had gone. It bothered him more than anything that he didn’t have the strength to save them himself. He liked playing the part of the dashing hero sometimes, but it wasn’t really for self glory. He wanted to help others. And knowing he couldn’t hurt him to his very core.

It wasn’t long before it was his lines turn, and he patiently waited for his chance. One by one the others were herded into the boat; one by one their shackles were removed. As his fell away he tensed, his only chance right in front of him. He lowered his head and remained still until they had pushed the dinghy out into the water again, rowing for the ships.

It only took a spit second for him to crouch then lunge forward; plunging into the greenish blue depths of the river and whatever awaited him there.

 

* * *

 

 

The book closes

 


End file.
